


But they drown when I kiss you

by lesbianbean



Series: you want the world/well what's it worth? [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, American Politics, Arguments, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cut Scene, Developing Relationship, F/F, Hotel Sex, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Rule 63, Suit Kink, Teasing, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 03:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16421405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbean/pseuds/lesbianbean
Summary: After the town hall, Starscream came up to her with a binder, looking characteristically irritated.“Soundwave told me to give you this. She said it was urgent.”Megatron took it, glancing inside, but it just looked like a normal poll report. It took her a moment to notice the room key tucked into one of the pockets.__What followed after that.UPDATE: Now with an extra chapter of lesbian nonsense





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a cut scene that I wound up coming back to, and I thought I'd post it. The reason I cut it was that there really isn't much plot, but there is a lot of gay content so hopefully that won't bother you that much. If you happen to know me in real life, I'll take this moment to formally request you don't read this, as it is E rated.

 

Megatron was watching her. She seemed to think Starscream wouldn’t notice, but she did. Starscream couldn’t think with the older woman’s dark eyes on her, her brain refused to focus on anything but memories of the day before.

There was something thrilling about the senator being just across the room, hearing her voice, catching glances of her out of the corner of her eye. She wrote out the same sentence three times before realizing what she had done, sighing in frustration, and she could _swear_ she heard Megatron laugh. Starscream hated her.

Whatever the hell had happened the night before hadn’t improved Megatron’s attitude towards her work. “Go over the memo again. And do it right this time, or else I swear I’m replacing you.” The older woman shoved the paper at her and walked away, their shoulders brushing, and Starscream had to hold back a shiver at the contact. Soundwave gave her an odd look, and she glared at her, sitting down at the tiny corner she’d cleared for herself in the campaign office with a huff.  Megatron had scrawled _nine_ in the margin next to a somewhat unfair criticism of her use of commas and she almost rolled her eyes at how cliche it was, although she was no better, slipping her a goddamn room key in a binder. It made her face heat up just thinking about it. Her shoulder tingled.

* * *

The senator opened the door to her room at exactly nine o’clock. like she’d scheduled it. Which, now that she thought about it, she probably had. Starscream pictured her writing ‘liaison with campaign manager’ in her planner and bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t laugh.

“Starscream.”

She swallowed, not sure why she felt nervous all of a sudden. “Senator.”

They stared at each other for a moment and then the tension that had been building all day snapped like a piano wire and Megatron’s mouth was on hers and her back was against the wall, and it was like she’d been desperate for water for weeks and now she was in the middle of a thunderstorm. She moaned into the senator’s mouth before she could stop herself, whining with frustration when Megatron pulled back after only a few minutes, adjusting her charcoal grey blazer and sitting down on her bed. Even though her normally tight bun had come loose and strands were tumbling into her face, she’d never seemed more in control. Starscream took a step forward, but the older woman lazily raised a hand to stop her, looking her up and down. Her face was completely impassive but Starscream could see that her pupils were blown wide with arousal.  

“Take off your clothes.” She bristled at the command in her voice but her hands were already obeying, trying not to fumble the tiny buttons. Megatron’s faint grin widened as she let her blouse fall to the floor and reached for the tiny hook and eye on her pencil skirt, pulling the zipper down and stepping out of it. She hesitated on the clasp of her bra, and Megatron tilted her chin up encouragingly. It hit the ground with a soft thunk. She couldn’t help but preen a little because she knew she looked good in her bright red cotton panties and sky-blue stiletto heels.

“Like what you see?”

Megatron swallowed, her dark eyes raking over her body.  “You’re very pretty, but I’m sure you’re aware of that, princess.” Her voice was low, reminding her of the taste of bourbon, the smell of gunpowder. “Come here.” Starscream moved closer, and the senator caught her waist, tugging her to stand between her legs. Her grip was firm, possessive, rubbing tiny circles on her hips. She chuckled at Starscream’s sharp intake of breath. There was a challenge in her gaze, and she thought back to her job interview. Megatron hadn’t spoken then and she wasn’t speaking now but both times the message was clear— impress me.

She knelt, steadying herself on Megatron’s thighs, the crisp fabric comforting under her hands. Megatron hummed softly and spread her legs further apart, sweeping her thumb down Starscream’s cheek and caressing her lower lip.

“I’ve wondered what kinds of things you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

Starscream looked up at her, keeping her voice as innocent as possible—something told her Megatron would like that.  “Would you like a demonstration, Senator?”

Megatron swallowed again, she could see her throat move as she reached for the top button on her pants. Her mouth was already watering. She could do this, she’d done it before countless times for the different women she brought back to her hotel room when she got too desperate for someone, anyone’s hands on her. The static in her mind that never really went away would get quiet and she could focus on a single task.  Megatron’s hands tightened on her hair, guiding her, and it sent delicious tingles through her scalp.

“That’s it. Right there.” She could hear the want in the senator’s voice, creeping in around the edges of her words and making them rougher, warmer. “God, you love this, don’t you, princess? On your knees for me, so good and perfect and obedient. My good girl. My sharp deadly _brilliant_ weapon.” Starscream could feel herself shudder with arousal, and she was drowning in the senator’s words, her taste, the feel of her. It was overwhelming, intoxicating. “You feel what you do to me, Starscream? You and your smart fucking mouth. I’ve been thinking about this since you flounced into my office—god—”  Starscream hummed happily, knowing she was close, and  Megatron pulled harder on her hair and her heart was _racing_. She loved it, loved how she was undoing the most powerful woman in Washington with just her tongue and hands. Megatron’s voice choked off and Starscream felt her body shake as she came. She used every trick she knew to draw it out, wanting more, wanting to hear Megatron say her name again, wanting to hear the praise in her voice.

When it was finally over she leaned back onto her heels, meeting the senator’s eyes with a smirk and slowly licking her lips. Megatron stood, buttoning her pants back up, and she was reminded of how small she was as the older woman loomed over her, her shoulders broad and powerful in her grey suit. Starscream watched her hands as she adjusted her clothes, thinking of how they felt in her hair, on her skin, and she ached for more.

“That was quite the performance.”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance, even as Megatron’s eyes traveled down her body again, calculating. “You seemed to enjoy it, senator. And you know I live to serve.”

Megatron’s eyes flashed. “Get up.” She stood, wobbling a little. “Lie down on the bed.” Starscream’s stomach flipped with excitement as she obeyed, the hotel duvet feeling pleasantly cool against her skin. She knew she had to look a sight, sprawled out on her hotel bed in only her panties and heels, on display for her boss like a policy memo and just as easy to read. Megatron straddled her, her strong thighs on either side of her waist, looking down at her with a predatory smile and she felt— _exposed_ , her brain whispered, _vulnerable, trapped,_ and it probably shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it did.

“Tell me what you want.” She reached toward the buttons on Megatron’s blazer, but the senator was quicker, catching her wrists. “Ah, ah. You have to use your words, princess.”

The condescending tone reminded Starscream why she’d had so many violent fantasies involving her boss. She squirmed, trying to free her hands but Megatron was stronger. “Oh, fuck you.”

The senator raised an eyebrow. “Maybe if you ask politely.”

“Just—”

“What was that?”

“Touch me.” She hated the pleading note in her voice. Megatron ran a finger over her ribcage, tracing featherlight circles over one of her tattoos and smiling when she gasped, arching into it before she could stop herself. “Please—” Her boss looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to finish her sentence and she bit her lip because she wasn’t going to beg, she wasn’t, not for this. Megatron seemed unfazed, bending down to scrape her teeth over the still-fading mark on her neck from the night before and then blowing cool air over the spot, chuckling when Starscream yelped. Every light touch was like an electric shock, like gasoline on an open flame, and she couldn’t stop feeling it.

“Megatron.” Her voice was shaking, and the senator stopped at that, looking down at her.

“What’s that, princess?”

Starscream was past caring about her dignity at this point. “I just—I want your hands on me.”

The senator actually looked surprised for a moment but she quickly recovered. “All right.” She smoothed her hair, the gesture oddly comforting, and then her hands were moving down, stroking over her collarbone and arms, gently kneading the tense places on her neck and then going even lower, teasing at her breasts. Starscream made a choked off noise when she brushed against one of her nipples. “Sensitive?”

“A—a little, maybe.”

Megatron grinned wickedly. “Good.” She leaned down, and Starscream gasped at the combination of teeth and tongue, and then Megatron _hummed_ , vibrations against the soft skin and it was too much, she couldn’t take it. Her fists clenched and she could feel her high heels scrabbling for purchase on the hotel duvet.

“Megatron.”

The senator stroked over her waist. “Beautiful.” She shuddered, trying to press her face into the pillow to hide her blush. The senator gripped her chin, forcing their eyes to meet. “You like it when I touch you?” Starscream heard herself whimper, sounding so pathetic that she considered hurling herself out the nearest window. “Starscream, I asked you a question.”

She squirmed, frustrated, trying to avoid Megatron’s piercing gaze. “I—”

“What was that?” Starscream wanted to punch something.

“Yes!”

Megatron kissed her neck as a reward. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I fucking like it when you touch me, okay? I want you to fucking touch me.”

“Such an _attitude_. Whatever am I going to do with you?”Her hands were everywhere, but her touch was light, never stopping in one place for long enough for her to feel any relief.

“I want—I want—Megatron, _please_.”

Megatron moved, slipping her thigh between Starscream’s legs and she bucked up desperately against it. She was shaking, oversensitive, and the senator moved down and the pressure, the goddamn pressure was so good, so overwhelming after all the teasing. Megatron laughed. “Are you going to come on my leg, Starscream?”

“Oh God, I hate you.” And she did, it was humiliating and—she fucking _hated_ her, and it was so good, so fucking good, and she wanted—needed more. Megatron was holding her down and she was going to come, there was nothing she could do about it. “I’m—I’m going to—”

“That’s it.” Megatron was practically purring in her ear, stroking her hair. “Be a good girl and come for me.” It was too much, the combination of the pressure and her boss’s voice and the heat and smell and she was gasping, coming apart at the seams, but Megatron had her, she was holding her together. Just as the pleasure was dying down Megatron slipped a hand between her legs, finding her clit and rubbing at just the right angle, biting down on her neck before whispering _good girl_ again and she felt another orgasm rush over her. She choked out Megatron’s name, and the older woman kissed her, swallowing her desperate noises.

* * *

Starscream sat up as soon as she could feel her legs, reaching for her suitcase and fishing out her makeup bag. Megatron reached for her and she dodged, worried that if she got back into bed she might never leave.

“I have a conference call in a half hour. You need to be out by then.”

“And if I’m not?” Her voice was warm, sated, and Starscream swatted away her hand again.

“This is my room. I invited you here, I can kick you out.”

“We still have time. Come lie down for a bit.”

The idea was incredibly tempting. “I need to shower.”

“I’ll join you.” And even though Starscream could literally still feel her muscles trembling from her last orgasm—she’d lost count somewhere around number five—another wave of heat crashed over her body at the thought. She forced herself to stand up.

“Absolutely not. Why don’t you take a nap? Don’t old people get tired after sex?”

Megatron glared at her. “I’m not that old.”

“Then watch TV. Or order room service. Just don’t bother me while I’m getting ready.”

“That’s an awfully snippy tone to be taking with your boss.”

Starscream was already halfway across the room. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Is that a promise?”

“It could be.” She glanced over her shoulder at the senator lying on her bed and wondered why the hell she hadn’t stopped herself before she’d gotten in so deep. And how she was already thinking about the “later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical day on the campaign trail.

Ever since that first night, sneaking Megatron her room key had become a kind of game. The easiest way was to stick it in briefings or memos, but that quickly got boring. Starscream experimented with other ways--once she slipped it into Megatron’s menu at a diner and then had to scramble to get it back when an unsuspecting Soundwave sat across from her instead. Her favorite was to get it into Megatron’s jacket pocket, but that took the most effort.

There were some things that stayed the same as the campaign continued. Starscream was always the one giving Megatron her room key, which she wondered about sometimes. And even though they met in her room, she made sure not to linger in bed after they had finished, grabbing her clothes off the floor and avoiding Megatron’s eyes as she headed for the shower. It was one of the traditions she’d picked up on when she brought home journalists or lobbyists in Washington, or another wealthy heiress in San Francisco. She didn’t do staying after hookups.

There were fifteen minutes to go before the scheduled jobs rally, and she was considering how she was going to slip her room key into her boss’s blazer pocket when disaster struck. Frenzy dropped her phone and dove on the ground to pick it up, whacking her sister’s elbow. Rumble’s frappuccino went flying, splattering across Starscream’s carefully organized notes, Soundwave’s bag, and, worst of all, Megatron’s camera-tested sweater and blazer.

Starscream turned on the twins. “Can you two go for five goddamn minutes without fucking things up?”

Soundwave cleared her throat. “Starscream: desist.”

“Get control of your brats first!”

Rumble scrambled for her cup, glaring at Starscream. “I didn’t  _mean_ to do it!”

Starscream looked like she was going to rip off the teenager’s head, but Megatron cleared her throat before she could. She looked remarkably calm, even though the rally that Starscream had planned for  _weeks_ was about to implode. She probably thought it was fucking _funny_ because she didn’t understand the importance of camera-testing outfits and wouldn’t listen to Starscream when she explained it. And they had absolutely no time “Fuck me.” Starscream ran a hand over her face. “Okay, Soundwave, stall for us.” She grabbed Megatron’s arm and dragged her into the nearest room, which happened to be a broom closet. It was somewhat cramped, and Megatron gave her an odd look.

“Is there a reason we’re in here?”

“No one will get pictures.”

“But they’ll get pictures of us leaving a closet together.” Starscream felt her face heat up and she swatted Megatron’s hand away when the senator tried to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.“You’re the PR expert, Starscream, isn’t that scandalous?”

“Shut up. What kind of material is your sweater?”

“Excuse me?”

“Is it poly-cotton? Cashmere? Wool?” Starscream rubbed the material on the collar between her fingers. “Feels like wool. Okay, I’m not risking it. Take it off.”

Megatron smirked at her. “I hardly think this is the time--”

 _God,_ the closet was way too small. “Shut up.” Megatron gave her a warning look. “Just--trust me, okay? This same thing happened to Skywarp before she had a job interview.” Her boss still looked skeptical but she pulled off her sweater,  “Give it to me, I’ll get it dry-cleaned later. Now hold still.”

She pulled her wet wipes out of her bag and started to wipe up the splattered vanilla frappuccino on the older woman’s blazer. The light gray button-up she had on under the sweater was boring but it wouldn’t look too bad on television. She hoped. If the shirt didn’t look good and one of Prime’s smug cronies tweeted about it she was going to create a sockpuppet account and drag them and she didn’t care if Soundwave didn’t like it.

“Starscream.”

“What?”

“You’ve been muttering under your breath for the last few minutes. Are you planning to be finished by the time the rally starts?”

She rolled her eyes. “This takes time, be patient.” On an impulse, she smoothed out Megatron’s collar, trying not to think about how warm her skin was or how she’d unbuttoned that same shirt just a few days ago in a cramped motel room--

“Why don’t I just take off the blazer?” Megatron began to shrug it off and Starscream wasn’t sure why that was what infuriated her, but it had been a long day and she had just fucking had it.

She grabbed her wrist, glaring up at her boss. “Because you’re about to go on fucking television and talk about your jobs plan and if you don’t have the right outfit on, all anyone is going to be talking about is why your pants didn’t match your shirt! I know you think that the importance of planning an outfit is just something frivolous that I made up to annoy you, but just fucking once can you trust that I know what I’m doing?” She threw one of the wet wipes at the wall and yanked another one out of her purse. “Now hold still and let me do my goddamn job.”

Megatron leaned back against the shelf, watching her work with an amused expression. She seemed taller than usual, although maybe it was just the confined space.

“There. That should mostly cover up the stains.” She adjusted the senator’s blazer lapels.

“Good girl.” Megatron drawled, taking a step forward and pressing her back into the closet wall.

“What are you doing?”

The older woman leaned down and pressed a kiss just under her ear. “I like it when you’re feisty.” She nipped the spot and then drew back, patting Starscream’s cheek. “Go talk to the press pool.” And then she was gone, leaving Starscream pressed against the wall of the broom closet, contemplating how hard she would have to punch the wall to put a hole in it.

A half hour later, as she was watching the rally on the tv and barking answers at various bloggers and local journalists, she stuck her hand in her pocket for a stick of gum and found Megatron’s room key.

* * *

 

Starscream spent most of the rest of the day on edge, feeling charged with the anticipation of what was going to happen. It had been a few days since they’d been able to block out some time alone and being stuck in a broom closet with her stupid boss had only made the static energy under her skin feel more unbearable. She got to the room early but forced herself to wait until she was five minutes late before swiping the key.

Megatron was sitting in the hotel armchair with a book, which she put aside as her chief of staff entered the room. Starscream stared at her steady hands, her broad shoulders, and how her legs looked in her pantsuit. The senator indulged her for a minute before speaking.  
“Starscream. Come here.”

She walked over to the chair, craning her neck so she could see the cover of the book and snorting when she did. “ _The Art of War_? You’re such a cliche.”

Megatron caught her wrist and pulled her down into the armchair, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You’ve been snippy today.”

“First 'feisty,' and now 'snippy.' Do you ever hear how fucking condescending you sound?” She expected a response but Megatron just hummed, reaching up to unsnap her barrette and run her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. It felt good--easing away the tension headache that had been throbbing in her temples and the back of her head for hours, and she sighed, leaning back into Megatron’s hand. The senator went on for a while, watching her with the same amused look she’d given her earlier that day before drawing her down for a kiss. Her kiss was slow and thorough, the kind of kiss you gave someone when you wanted to take your time, memorize them. They had other kisses too, of course, rough kisses that were essentially continuations of screaming matches, hasty collisions backstage or in the backseats of cars when Soundwave was getting coffee, and she liked those, but being kissed like this...it felt nice. Not that she’d tell Megatron that. She moved so she was straddling Megatron, pulling back just slightly so she could unbutton her blouse and pull off her blazer. Megatron helped her with the buttons, kissing down her shoulder as she let her light blue silk blouse fall to the floor. She could hang it in the shower later to get the wrinkles out.

“So.” Megatron interrupted her thoughts. “How did my shirt end up looking under the cameras?”

The tension headache was instantly back. “It looked fine. It would have looked better if you had the sweater.”

Her boss smirked. “You know no one sane would wear a sweater and a long-sleeved button-up and a blazer in the middle of the summer in Texas?”

“Oh, for the love of--It’s not about the weather, idiot! It’s about the aesthetic. The sweater connotes both a casual attitude and intelligence--you’re smart, but you’re not smug about it. Which you need, because people think you’re unapproachable. Do you know why Prime wears denim? Because denim says that you’re one of the common folk and you understand their needs!”

“How long do you spend thinking about this?” Megatron was more focused on unfastening her bra than listening to her. She rolled her eyes and twisted the front, popping it open. A moment later, she realized that might not have been the best decision if she had wanted Megatron to listen to her.

“This is--ah-- _important_ , Megatron.” Megatron did something else with her fingers and she completely lost her train of thought. Something about a sweater, and denim and-- “You have no idea the amount of _time_ that goes into this. You’re lucky to have me.”

Megatron hummed, brushing her lips over Starscream’s collarbone. “I’m well aware.” Her words vibrated through Starscream’s throat and she shivered.

“You don’t _seem_ aware.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, princess. Do you feel underappreciated?” The amusement in her boss's voice annoyed her and she tried to scoot backward but Megatron caught her before she could, lifting her up as easily as if she was a briefcase and laying her out on the hotel bed.  “Let me see if I can fix that.”

She propped herself up on her elbows, disoriented, just in time to see Megatron dropping to her knees between her spread legs. It took her a moment for her to put the puzzle pieces together and then she fell back, unable to support herself as Megatron unfastened her dress pants. “Oh my god.”

Megatron smiled up at her, the kind of predatory smile that always made her dizzy in the best possible way. “You were so good for me today, Starscream, is that what you want to hear? You did so well.”

Starscream felt like she might spontaneously combust if Megatron kept saying things like that. “Stop talking.”

“I don’t think I will. Although...maybe there’s another way I can show my appreciation.” Megatron kissed her waist, stroking the sensitive skin behind her knee, and she couldn’t stop herself from making an embarrassing gasping noise. She pressed her hands over her mouth. Her boss made a disapproving noise. “Oh, now you’re quiet?” Megatron tugged her hands away, pinning her wrists to the bed. “I don’t think so.”

Her face felt hot and part of her wanted to look away but she couldn’t stop watching Megatron, who looked her up and down with hungry eyes before shooting her a quick half-smile and ducking down between her legs. Starscream choked, clutching the bedsheets for support, as her boss’s unbelievably talented mouth sent delicious fluttering sensations up through her core. For a few minutes, she was able to keep her mouth shut, biting down on her lip until it almost bled, but then Megatron pulled away, and she couldn’t hold back a frustrated noise.

“Why did you--” She gritted her teeth. “Why did you stop?”

“You’re so quiet. I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“No, I--”  

“Do you like it when I taste you, Starscream?” The teasing made her feel even more desperate and she squirmed, feeling pinned by the older woman’s strong hands and her merciless gaze. Megatron just watched her, a wonderfully cruel smile on her face. “Do you want me to keep going?”

The words spilled out, a dam bursting. “Yes, yes, senator-- please, I’ll do anything, just let me--”

“Use my name.”

“Megatron, _please_.”

“Good girl. Now let me hear you.”

She wasn’t entirely sure what she stammered out, but every time she said Megatron’s name her boss hummed with approval and the sensation was on the perfect edge of  _almost too much._ Soon, her spine was arching off the bed and she came with a scream, struggling in vain to free her hands and muffle the sounds. As the feeling began to ebb away she tried to sit up but Megatron shook her head, pushing her back down onto the duvet.

“I’m not finished with you.” She nipped at the soft skin on the inside of her thigh for emphasis and Starscream yelped. Her whole body felt hypersensitive.

“I--I can’t--”

Her boss hummed in approval again, almost purring, sending exquisite vibrations through her whole body. “You can if I say you can, Starscream.” The older woman was stroking behind her knees again, her touch light and teasing, and then her mouth was on Starscream again, tasting her like she was some rare delicacy. She found a spot that made fireworks explode behind Starscream’s closed eyelids and she heard herself cry out something that sounded like Megatron’s name, begging--she wasn’t sure if it was for the senator to stop or continue, and Megatron laughed, and the feeling sent her over the edge again. Everything was gone except the older woman’s hands and mouth.  All she could do was feel. Megatron didn’t slow down for a moment, sucking and nibbling and teasing her through a third orgasm and then a fourth.

“Well done,” Megatron praised, rubbing a slow circle on her hip, and she couldn’t make any noises except for incoherent whimpers and then a shaky gasp as she felt Megatron’s fingers inside her. Every touch felt like exquisite torture. She expected Megatron to stop but she kept going, kissing up her stomach and over her breasts, and then leaning close so she could whisper praise and filthy encouragements in her ear as Starscream shuddered and begged. “So gorgeous for me. You’re going to be a good girl and come for me again, aren’t you? Gonna make those pretty little noises?”

“Stop talking, just--” She tried to press her face into the pillow but Megatron made a soft noise of disapproval and turned her head back.

Some of the older woman’s hair had come loose from her bun and it tickled her neck and cheeks as the senator bent down to kiss her. On an impulse, she reached up to catch one of the strands, rubbing it between her fingers, and Megatron laughed fondly.  

“I want you to look at me, Starscream. Watch me.” The senator added a third finger and did  _something_ , Starscream wasn’t even sure what it was but she knew that it was the  _same fucking spot_ that had made her come undone earlier and she was shaking and her vision had gone black around the edges and the pleasure was so intense it was almost painful.

When the fog finally cleared out of her vision, the first thing she felt was a hand on her hair. The look on Megatron’s face was entirely too smug. “How was that?”

Starscream pushed herself up shakily, ignoring the exhausted part of her that wanted her boss to keep stroking her hair and hold her until she fell asleep. That wasn’t what this was. “All right. Do you want me to--”

“Not now. Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ve got some space on the schedule.”

She shrugged off Megatron’s hand with great effort and started hunting for her stilettos on the floor. “Can’t. I need to talk to the twins about social media strategy.” Her boss grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back onto the bed. “What are you--”

“Stay.” Megatron pulled the duvet over her. The sheets actually weren’t terrible, she thought absently. And the arm around her waist was surprisingly gentle.  Her eyes didn’t want to stay open, but she had to go now, before--she couldn’t remember exactly why she had to leave but she knew it was important. She sat up again but Megatron immediately pushed her back down. “Rest.”

“I’m not tired.”

“I can tell when you're lying, Starscream.” The older woman was gently running a hand up and down her arm, occasionally rubbing the back of her neck or between her shoulder blades. She rolled over and pressed her forehead against Megatron’s shoulder. If she listened she could hear the older woman’s heartbeat, steady and constant. _The world won’t end if I fall asleep_ , she thought, and then she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tfw your campaign manager hasn't slept in nearly a week and you're worried she's going to drop dead if you don't do something to help her relax. 
> 
> I promise I will write something with a plot soon, this scene just wouldn't leave me alone


End file.
